“We fly into cold weather
wings of persimmon
gold flash”
Read More"How the Light Gets In" in L'Éphémère Review →
I wrote this at the end of the first year of the Trump administration and the hope expressed in it has sustained me through year two. Now thanks to L'Éphémère Review, that hope is out in the world.
Give a Girl Chaos excerpts in Gone Lawn
Gone Lawn published these five poems, including a poem that was previously unpublished, “When We Write About the Weather” (below) along side an interview by the editor and fellow poet, Beth Gordon (see Interviews). For the full excerpts and interview.
When We Write about the Weather
We write about the weather and yes
it's about the weather—Spring storms lashing
the last life from our winter bones. We are done with it. Yet
relentless rain soaks your poems.
Hurricanes hurl beyond your tight lines.
Form, borders wash into the sea.
If you could reach into the rush of water,
swirl and bounty of it and pull out a heart,
would it be yours?
Mine is the yellow tugboat
dragging a massive barge into the wind.
Surprising physics of grief.
How ashes float—a sea foamof cherry blossom confetti,dusting each wave—disappear with the current.
But I lie.
My heart's adrift on that current
or maybe it's the rock crab scuttling
sideways along the sea floor searching.
To lose a father is to lose home.
Sometimes, the buoyant mind becomes a river
claims the land impeding its course to the sea.
Follow it to that scrim of land you claim home.
Home, the sea claimed as its birthright.When all is washed away,what remains?
This morning our rain ebbed,
weather turned.
"Get Out" in Bracken Magazine →
I wrote “Get Out” in the fall of 2017 after Hurricane Harvey, Maria, the Mexico earthquakes, California and Washington fires. I had heard that birds were early warning systems, when I researched I learned how different varieties of bird respond to climate and weather danger. Sadly, this poem is as relevant today as it was a year ago and will be next year.
Read More"If I Call Out His Name" & "The Famous Poet is Late"
"While Liam Neeson Slept" & "Every Woman Must Have"
Poems about dead celebrities have a certain otherliness to them as a part of us not just mourns someone we didn’t know, but feels oddly connected. “While Liam Neeson Slept” came to me as a dream and then had to be written in American sonnet form. “Every Woman Must Have” was written the day after Kate Spade’s suicide in June, 2018.
"Open Season" in Poets Reading the News
The bombs sent to high profile Trump critics and democrats reminded me of what it is like to live with a bomb threat. I quickly drafted this poem and was pleased that Poets Reading the News chose to publish it immediately.
Read More"Afterward" in The Matador Review
"Saint Lulu of the Vagina" in Museum of Northwest Art
Written during the Poets on the Coast retreat where the we were unleashed on the Museum of Northwest Art to write. I was inspired by the late Patty Detzer’s sculpture, Saint Lulu.
Read More"A Small Act" in Lines + Stars →
I have made so many mistakes, and yet in this poem “Small Act” I tell the story of a friend’s mistake—actually it was a kind gesture, gone awry. Oh the unintended consequences of our actions….
Read More"Stilled Life" in The Harpoon Review
I wrote this poem during April for National Poetry Month where I wrote a poem a day. It took on a melancholy tone even though it has so much beauty in it—the dead seal pup saddened me and took me down a path that is not autobiographical but to a place of sadness that I could imagine.
"At the End of Our Marriage, You Contract Congestive Heart Failure"
Love that this acerbic poem was caught & published by @FlyPaperMag
"Tuesday" Finalist for Mississippi Review Poetry Prize
This was a difficult and important poem for me to write. I worked on it for a long time. I have since written a follow on series entited “Afterward”. Thank you to Adam Clay and MR for publishing it with care and honoring it as a finalist.
Read More"In Praise of Pink" & "ESC.Option.Delete" in Yemassee Journal
“In Praise of Pink” was written in minutes driving in my car for my daughter. “ESC.Option.Delete” was a revision project that I thought would never end. It finally did with this grief poem.
Read More"She opens like a wound" in Santa Clara Review
This poem was inspired by a single line that a friend said in passing. That line is long since gone and this poem is not tied to anything real, but I love the bite in it.
Read More"Anonymous Act" in Poets Reading the News
This is one of the poems that you write just because you need to. And as a mother because you really need to. Then circumstances happen, and you need to raise awareness of the issue.
Read More"Beyond" and "Dead Sea" in Construction Lit Magazine
Nine years after a deadly tsunami slammed into South Eastern Asia, the land and people recovered. In the decades between when I travelled to the Israel side of the Dead Sea and the Jordanian side, wars had been fought and the border had softened. I am fascinated by the resilience that people and nature show over and over again.
Read More"Cleave" in Penn Review
The word “cleave” is fantastic—a contronym (or anti-antonym) with contradictory meanings, but it also consumes the word “leave” and leads to “cleaver”. This poem explores the visceral nature of this delicious word.
Read MoreWandering Seeds in Twisted Vine Literary & Arts Journal
“Wandering Seeds” started as a reaction to this administration’s attempts to close our borders and ended up looking at globalization through the lens of the morning glory. How there is no way to wall off from the world.
Read More"Instagram" in Rockvale Review
Social media creates less space between past and present. I wanted to explore that idea. Rockvale Review engaged the photographer Michelle Casady to create a photograph for each poem. Here is her note on this photograph:
Photographer’s Note: This poem represents a ping-pong of thoughts between present and past, a struggle between what is and what was. I chose this photo because it represents a quiet place to sit alone with your thoughts (serene), reflect on your past (literal reflections), dream big dreams, and try to work your way out of a state of confusion (fog). The slightest bit of sunshine always signifies new hope, even when an Instagram search creates that twinge of discontent.